


Capacity

by Andian



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e13 return0, F/F, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw is not sure if she has the capacity to change. To love. Not that the subway compartment, leading her and Fusco to either their certain death or uncertain safety, is a good place to think about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capacity

„She loved you,“ she suddenly says in _her_ voice.  


If she was anybody else this might have hurt. Shaw just rolls her eyes and concentrates on checking the gun.

The subway car can't go forever, she knows that. Fusco knows that. That little piece of shit who killed _her_ knows that and the edges of her vision gray out when she thinks about that and she just wants to...

“Did she ever tell you that?”

Is that a question, coming from their omniscient all-knowing God, Shaw wonders. Then Shaw wonders if she actually knows the answer.

Oh, _she_ had flirted like she had breathed and _her_ eyes in those few rare honest moments had been less open books and more entire libraries. Or something similar sappy and stupid. 

Shaw checks how much ammo they have left. Not much, but has there ever been enough when it the entire world tries to kill you. 

Out of her eyes she can see Fusco checking his own gun and for a moment she feels a pang of … something when she remembers that he has a kid waiting at home.

It disappears almost in an instant because she is who she is and she does not actually have the capacity to feel bad about it, even if she wanted it to.

Does she want to? She is not quite sure actually. A few years ago the answer would have been a clear no. The way she was – the way she still is – had made her effective, incorruptible. Unsentimental. She's still like that even after … after everything. 

Which is why she's here, in the same train as the man who killed _her_ and doesn't just shoot him because it's a waste of time and a waste of bullets. 

It's the only reason, she tells herself and has nothing to do with what Finch would think – would say – about killing an unarmed man who can't hurt anybody anymore. Finch hasn't changed her for the better, though not for a lack of trying, and there is begrudging respect and disbelief about this man who had seen all the worst of her and still holds her to a higher standard than that.

Fusco moves around the train and she flinches for a brief moment but he only opens a case and pulls out another gun. 

She wonders if Reese is already dead. If Finch is then Reese is too. She can see even though she can't always understand. 

She puts more ammo in her pockets. At least something can be easy. John won't go out with one hell of a fight. 

The train starts slowing down and the reason they're all here has been silent for some time now. Maybe saving energy to track their thousand enemies, maybe keeping an eye on their group or at least what's left of them at this point. Maybe slowly slipping away. 

Shaw wonders what it feels like to die when you technically never even where alive to begin with. _She_ would have had something to say about this, but _she_ had something to say about everything. 

The train almost stops completely and the doors will open and in five minutes they're either alive or dead. Their last minutes start now. 

But they've been living their last few minutes for years now so Shaw just takes her guns and her waits. 

“I think … she would have liked you tell at least once,” she says. 

And Shaw, Shaw doesn't really think that she has changed much, not really. She had stood in front of the unmarked grave of the only person she had ever truly loved and had felt nothing when she'd been told that her corpse had been taken away. 

And Root had never really told her she had love her. 

But then neither did Shaw. 

A bitter smile. The train stops completely. 

“Your timing is awful,” Shaw says and grabs her gun as Fusco goes to grab the assassin. 

If she was any other person she might have cried. For the things that were. For the things that could have been. 

But so she takes comfort in the fact that she had always known that Root had loved her and that neither of them were the type to need to hear it said out loud. 

The assassins stabs Fusco and all hell breaks loose and Shaw hopes that Root died knowing that Shaw had loved her as much as she could. 


End file.
